


Late Night

by greenbucket



Series: Late Night [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-11
Updated: 2017-11-11
Packaged: 2019-01-31 17:51:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12687201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbucket/pseuds/greenbucket
Summary: Ford must have left her brain with her glasses because she thinks stupidly,wow, those are boobs.





	Late Night

**Author's Note:**

> Porn ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ 
> 
> This was originally the opening of a Ford/Lardo longfic I got someway through before deciding to rework, but it stands fine alone I think.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” the girl asks against Ford’s mouth. “We can stop if you want.”

Ford isn’t sure this is what her aunt had meant when she said Ford could invite friends over while she was staying the night in Providence after her work meeting. Then again, it wasn’t like she’d really had time to make friends in week she’d been in Boston, so she wasn’t sure what her aunt had expected at all. Ford lying half-dressed in the spare room under a girl she’d picked up in a club with no intention to stop the situation going further probably wasn’t it, though.

“I’m good,” Ford says. “I’m super good, I’m great.” Everything is a little blurry because she hadn’t worn contacts to the club and now her glasses are somewhere on the bedside table, but she thinks the girl smiles a little. She gets back to the kissing, at least, and that’s something Ford can get behind.

She’s stripped down to just her bra and her jeans are unbuttoned but the girl – Ford wishes she remembered her name, but it had been so noisy in the club. Maybe Lara? Marissa? – is still fully clothed. Ford pushes her hands under the girl’s t-shirt and the girl takes the hint, pulling the shirt off altogether and then her bra too and Ford must have left her brain with her glasses because she thinks stupidly, _wow, those are boobs_.

The thought is gone the next second because wow, those are boobs and while that kind of thought makes Ford feel like this is her first foray into girls all over again, this really isn’t. The girl makes a gratifyingly choked sound when Ford gets a hand on her boob and actually moans when Ford takes advantage of the way they’re lying to press her thigh up between the girl’s legs. She starts kissing even more fervently than before and Ford is so wet already that when the girl unclasps her bra the way they press chest to chest against each other makes her shiver all over, and when the girl slips her hand into Ford’s jeans Ford breaks away from their kissing and gives an embarrassing, hitching gasp.

“Let me–” she starts, trying to return the favour because riding someone’s thigh is all well and good but probably not on equal footing, but the girl shakes her head and says, “No, wait, I wanna do this.”

Ford is hardly going to put up much of a resistance to that, and she certainly isn’t once the girl actually gets to business because at that point all more nuanced thought vanishes from her mind completely.

It’s been a while and while her masturbatory habits are perfectly healthy, there’s a difference between rubbing one out fairly perfunctorily when she’s bored and horny, or just plain bored, and having someone else’s hand on her clit. Plus someone’s mouth hot on her neck and her chest, and someone moving against her thigh in short bursts like maybe the girl is just as turned on as Ford is. Because Ford is so, so turned on. Her eyes are squeezed shut and she can already feel the muscles in her thighs and her stomach jumping with every movement the girl makes, her breath loud in her ears.

When the girl finally gets her mouth around Ford’s nipple, fingers still pressed against her clit, Ford swears and nearly dislodges her as she comes, legs snapping together instinctively. The girl catches herself with a hand on Ford’s hip and laughs while Ford shivers and gasps through her orgasm.

Ford feels sticky and sweaty after and still having her jeans on feels like the stupidest and most uncomfortable thing in the world, but the girl is still on top of her.

“Wow,” Ford says, feeling herself making a goofy expression up at the girl but too softened by her orgasm to fix it. “Um. Thank you?”

The girl snorts. “No probs.”

Ford feels herself flush. “I didn’t– I mean–” She takes pity on herself and decides to smooth over the moment with more kissing, pushing herself up onto her hands to reach where the girl is sitting up. It’s a little slower and less urgent than before, the girl seemingly content to cup Ford’s face and pull her in closer even though she still hasn’t come yet. It’s nice in a more settled and intimate way, insofar as it can be between two strangers, until Ford breaks it by blurting, “Can I take my jeans off and then eat you out?”

Everything is still blurred but Ford can see the girl’s expression turn slightly taken aback and then quickly to pleased. “Uh, _yeah_ ,” she says like the answer should be obvious.

The girl climbs off to swap positions with Ford and Ford tries not to be self-conscious as she awkwardly wriggles out of her pants, the denim tight and rough against her skin. She chucks them beside the bed to deal with later because while she’s been struggling with that, the girl has easily slipped off her pants and her underwear and Ford is hit with a wave of want so strong her head swims with it for a moment.

The way she’s lying back against the pillows is slightly defiant, a little uneasy, and she’s already agreed but maybe she’s changed her mind, so Ford still finds herself pausing and saying, “Hey, uh– um, sorry, what’s…?”

“It’s Larissa,” the girl says helpfully, seemingly unhurt that Ford couldn’t remember.

 _Larissa_. Of course. “Right, sorry. Larissa. Are you okay with this? We don’t have to… you know.”

Now Larissa does roll her eyes. “Yes, I promise I’m good with being eaten out. ‘Cause, you know, it’s known as, like, such a hardship in sex.”

Ford shrugs. “Just checking,” she says and goes to kiss Larissa again rather than dive straight in, seeing as the consent talk is important but far from the most arousing topic. Larissa kisses back enthusiastically so Ford figures she hasn’t annoyed her too much.

Ford’s mouth is beginning to feel a little numb from all the kissing when she begins to move downwards, kissing below Larissa’s ear then down to a nipple and then to her stomach, by which point Larissa is getting twitchy and her breath unsteady. She doesn’t express any actual impatience though, so Ford keeps it slow, using her fingers and kissing along the insides of her thighs for a bit before actually putting her mouth on her. Ford waits until Larissa is all she can smell and until she moans, low and shaky, and then she moves to lick against her clit.

Larissa swears a blue streak and her thighs close around Ford. Ford doesn’t mind; eating girls out is a passion of hers, slightly claustrophobic sweaty thighs and all. She can feel Larissa getting wetter and hear her sighs and moans getting more frequent, though no louder, as she licks and sucks and it’s so hot that Ford has to reach down and press the heel of her hand against herself to be able to stay on task.

Larissa’s shaking by the time Ford pushes her two fingers into her what feels like hours later, and it’s a testament to how long she must have been hovering at the edge that she comes with a choked off cry after only a few more licks and half a pump of Ford’s fingers. She shudders hard, whole body tensed with it, and Ford licks her through it even as she shakes against her own hand.

Larissa pushes Ford away after a minute and splays out across half the mattress, gaze slightly unfocused as she looks up at the ceiling. Ford lies next to her, conscious of not making it cuddling but needing some time for her heart rate to return to normal. She feels tingly all over and she can still taste Larissa on her lips. When she looks over, Larissa looks about as wiped and as blissed out as she feels.

“Water?” Ford asks after a minute or two.

“That’d be swawesome,” Larissa agrees.

Ford feels exposed when she gets up with only her underwear on, despite Larissa still naked on the bed, so she pulls on her shirt from earlier and slides her glasses back on. It’s strange for everything to be back in focus now and when she looks over at Larissa she realises she’s even prettier than Ford had remembered her being. She has to push back against a sudden bashfulness, turning to run down the stairs before she says something embarrassing.

The kitchen feels very quiet and sterile compared to the bedroom, the floor cool under Ford’s bare feet and everything in place where Ford’s aunt left it that morning. Ford realises as she’s filling up two tall glasses with water that she’s going to have to figure out how to wash her sheets without her aunt noticing, or maybe just burn them and buy replacements.

The guilt about abusing her aunts’ trust that she’d managed to push aside so far comes creeping back, alongside freshly forming embarrassment that Ford hadn’t even suggested using protection when she’s always pushing for education on dental dams, and Ford feels both kind of heavy on her shoulders by the time she’s back up the stairs. The sight of Larissa, also back in her underwear and a shirt but her hair a wreck, lessens it a little for the time being at least.

“So,” Ford says once they’ve both gulped down their water. They’re sitting cross-legged on the bed like two kids at a sleepover. It must be nearly sunrise and Ford is beginning to feel the tiredness taking its toll.

“So,” Larissa echoes. She fiddles with the hem of her t-shirt then stops, like she hadn’t meant to show that much. “This was chill.”

“It was,” Ford agrees. “I’m only here for two more weeks, but…”

“I’ll give you my number,” Larissa says decisively and strings off a bunch of digits that Ford hurries to add into her phone, “Text me when you’re free, we’ll co-ordinate and shit.”

Ford saves the contact under ‘Larissa :)’ and locks the screen. She doesn’t know whether or not to admit she’s almost always free because she’s already been to nearly every tourist attraction Boston offers and her theatre internship is only two days a week. “Cool,” she says instead. “Do you want to shower, or anything?”

“Nah, I’m good,” says Larissa, pulling on her pants. “I’ll just order a Lyft, I have work in a couple of hours anyways, so.”

“You have _work?_ ” Ford asks, aghast. “When will you sleep?”

“Who needs sleep,” Larissa says flippantly, but then with some consideration, “Probably not until tonight. Yikes, I’m gonna be exhausted.”

Ford winces. “Sorry.”

“Dude, don’t worry. I didn’t go to a gay bar alone because I wanted to get enough sleep before work, if you get what I’m saying.”

“Well, I could’ve…”

Larissa laughs, bright and quick. “Please don’t say you could’ve eaten me out _quicker_ or something.”

Ford has to laugh a little at that too because it was what she’d wanted to say but it’s true that making it slow made it about ten times hotter. She’s glad that Larissa seems to have come to the same conclusion. “Okay, you being tired for work is, like, totally your own fault then.”

Larissa nods. “Facts.” Her phone dings and she looks down at it. “Oh, my drivers here.”

They look at each other, Larissa sloppily dressed and looking very much like she’s just had sex and Ford only half dressed and looking very much like she’s just had sex. Ford hesitates, and then decides to go for it. She gives Larissa a kiss on the cheek and a hug, and is glad to have the hug at least returned.

“It was great meeting you,” Ford says, because it seems cheap to say ‘thanks for the awesome sex!’

“You too,” Larissa replies, shoving her feet into her shoes. “Let me know what’s up.”

Ford says she will and shows Larissa to the door, even though it’s just down the stairs and out the obviously-front door, and then Larissa is gone with a wave. The sun is just starting to peek over the horizon, spreading pale yellow light across the dark sky. The house is very quiet without Larissa there, although Larissa was hardly loud or chatty herself.

Ford stares at the mess of the bed, breathes in how strongly the room smells very obviously of sex, and throws open the window to air everything out. She strips the sheets off the bed and puts them in the wash then gets fresh ones from the hall and carefully remakes the bed. Finally, she goes to shower and do her routine, washing away the last traces of the night before she catches a few hours of sleep.

Curled up under the fresh bedding and already feeling herself getting drowsy, Ford holds onto consciousness for long enough to type and delete several texts to Larissa. In the end she settles on a fairly neutral _good luck at work!! :)_ , holding back on making it an evil smiley at the last second.

Larissa texts back a skull emoji, followed by the fries emoji, the unimpressed emoji, and the person taking a bath emoji. Ford tries to decipher what it could mean – Larissa is tired and wants or has fries but they aren’t satisfactory so she’s taking a bath? Maybe she works in food prep but likes baths more? – but really she’s too tired. She sends back the emoji with a halo and gets an instant _fuck u_ in response. It makes Ford smile but her eyes really are closing of their own accord so she wriggles a little until she’s full comfortable, setting the phone aside with the three dots showing Larissa still typing.


End file.
